Waynes' Antics
by porangi
Summary: A family-fic about the Waynes. Note that it's not Bat family but Wayne. Aren't you the least bit curious about what their relationship would be like between all the brothers and sister? This is something about their antics. MCs are Alfred, Bruce, Dick, Jason, Cass, Tim, Damian and Ace. No OCs.
1. Chapter 1: Plush Toys

**I**

Dick has a best friend.

A very special and important friend that's been with him through thick and thin.

It was a used toy that Bruce gave him.

While Bruce was out for the night, Dick cuddles with the toy in front of the fireplace. Waiting. Occasionally, Alfred delivers a cup of hot chocolate in time to overhear young Richard talking with the toy.

When Dick sleeps, he sleeps with the toy beside him and Alfred or Bruce would tuck them in.

When Dick was grieving, after all the smiles he put through, the small toy stood by his side. It soaked in his tears, wipe his tearstained face and listens to the weeping boy. Even in its silence, just being beside him, Dick gradually felt at ease and comforted. The toy returned his smile.

It's very special.

And one day, this toy will pass down to another kin and become that kin's best friend and closest confident. Maybe help move on from their insecurities.

But until then, Dick keeps it close beside him.

 **II**

As much as Jason refuse to admit it, there is a special place in his heart for a small and little Siberian tiger plush toy.

Its faux fur is a shade of golden wheat and black strips that still have the blackness of an abyss. Even after all the years, the toy is still smoother as it once is. It has a name apparently.

Ops.

"He is not _it_ , shithead, he has a name!"

His name is Ops, don't fucking forget it.

No questions asked.

 **III**

Cassandra doesn't know what to buy.

In fact, Cassandra doesn't want anything. She followed her brothers around the mall and while they picked up a plastic gun or bows, she would approach Bruce empty handed and left the mall without having bought anything.

Bruce begins to feel guilty.

His sons all have something they want and it took time and patience to discourage them from buying but Cass wasn't anything like them.

And it worried him.

She's such a good girl, there _must_ be something that she wants!

While on his way back from an overseas business trip, Bruce picked up a little something – a large teddy bear. One that is about Jason's height. And returned home with it.

She gave her father a big hug when he gave it to her.

Cass loved it.

Every day when she came back from school, she would give a hug to the bear and semi-disappear into the furriness.

But… she never gave another hug to her billionaire playboy father.

 **IV**

Tim's birthday was coming up and Cassandra Cain was having trouble deciding what to buy for the young boy's present.

Alfred was buying him a vintage detective set.

Bruce, a new set of high tech laptop that's yet to be released.

Dick cashed in on an expensive software that Tim had been saving up for.

Jason bought some kind of R18 game.

And Damian wrote Tim a card.

Man, Damian acts fast. Cass's only idea got swept up and now she's at the dead end with Tim's birthday only a few days away.

"Why don't you buy him something that you really like and feel important or of sentimental value? By the way, I'm buying Timmy a dress. Which do you think is better black or red?" Stephanie chimed over the phone. From all the noise in the background, Cass could tell she's at the mall again.

 _Something I really like… and feel important… sentimental value…_ Then, she remembered a fond memory and an item that means a lot to her.

Candles blown out and the lights switched back on, it was time to unwrap the presents. It was one of Tim's speciality.

All the presents were covered in boxes and with only a little shaking here and there, as well as some light cold reading (and investigation prior to his B-day), he roughly figured out their gifts. The card that was unnecessarily packaged with a fancy coat and ribbon, the R18 game that Bruce is sure to confiscate after the unravel, the detective set that Tim made sure to put in his display cabinet, the new laptop which he will promptly download the software his brother bought.

Yet one present stood out. Apart from the dress he'd planned to burn secretly.

A thing that's large, soft and had four legs. And is that a horn on its head…

It was the first present he unwrapped.

Inside is a gigantic unicorn. A gigantic and colourful unicorn in pastels.

Around its neck is a small card.

'Happy Birthday from Cass'.

Tim looked back at Cass.

She had a weary gaze, worried that he might not like it after all and it was the wrong gift. Especially when Jason and the demon-spawn started teasing him about it. She got uneasy.

Timothy Jackson Drake flashed a warm smile nonetheless.

"I love it!" he said with all the pride and manliness he could master.

He saw a relief smile on Cassie.

And he was going to name it, Gladius.

 **V**

Damian will never admit.

Never.

The one old, vintage shop that the Waynes pass by everyday on their sleek black cars and the occasional nightly batmobile, on the window display, is a stuffed toy turtle.

Damian have seen turtles sunbathing at the rocks, just outside the walls of the association. It was a rare sight and it was a weird creature to the little boy. He remembered his mother once pointed out the strange creatures on their way home and told the boy what it is. Kindly and motherly.

From that sighting, no turtles were seen ever again.

Then he spotted the said creature in the shop. In the form of a plush toy.

He secretly dubbed the plushie, Iago.

Today again, he stole a glance at the toy. Relief that it had not been bought and sad that it will one day be bought.

Walking past the store like any other day, Damian peeked at the window display.

!

Iago…

Damian inhaled and bit his lip. His heart thumped in his chest.

He wanted to go in that shop, ask Alfred to stop the car, and ask that old woman shop owner where it is.

But his pride just won't allow it.

An assassin and a plush toy? That's blasphemy.

He sulked and trudged to school. His remarks were crueller than usual and sulked back home with crossed arms.

"Hey, buddy," it was Grayson, "How was school?"

What does it matter? Iago is gone forever.

"It's still packed with time and oxygen wasting idiots."

He climb past Grayson and up to his room.

Damian twisted the doorknob and push.

His eyes widened.

Sitting on his bed, as if it owned it, is Iago the stuffed toy turtle.

"You gave me trouble, you stupid turtle."

 **VI**

Bruce held a pamphlet of a well-known therapy clinic but he's not so sure.

Behind that sunshine smile and youthful energy, young Richard 'Dick' John Grayson doesn't seem ready to talk. About what happened. Nope, not at all.

Bruce knew, the young lad just isn't ready.

On the internet, there is a suggestion about adopting or buying pets as therapy for the child instead of the tradition one-on-one discourse with a trained therapist. It works. But… a pet this soon? Right after the recent adoption of Dick?

Alfred isn't amused with the idea.

"If you're adopting a pet for young master Dick, won't your attention be divided?"

Bruce nodded slowly.

As expected of Alfred, he knows what's for the best.

"If you don't mind, Master Bruce, I suggest a plush toy for the young master."

"Plush toy?"

"Yes sir, remember your best friend master Griffin?"

Ah, Griffin…

The cute little ragged plush toy Alfred bought as a present for a young Bruce Wayne, when times were hard, Griffin is always there to comfort him.

"Thank you, Alfred."

"My pleasure, master Bruce."

That night, the master of the house sneaked up into the attic. It wasn't dusty, probably Alfred taking the time to clean the place, and filled with all the memoirs of his past from childhood to adulthood. Sitting on the clean window ledge is a small elephant toy.

Its fur is a shade of faded blue and sewed on patches of cloth.

Beside the toy is another, a wooden nutcracker.

 **VII**

Ace's favourite toy is a chewy donut with blue sauce and colourful sprinkles.

He loves how squeaky it is and how perfect it fits in his jaw.

It wasn't too small or too big.

And it's squeaky and chewy.

 **VIII – Bonus**

There are many plush toys in the Wayne Manor.

When the children were small, Alfred fondly remembers that he speaks with their toys as he would to them.

Bruce was of no difference.

He recalled a time when the young master had requested another cup of chocolate milk for his young plush toy friend.

The plushies decorated the wooden basket.

They spotted dark patches and signs of colour fading.

"If you'll pardon me, young masters, it's time for a bathe."

Alfred carried off the basket and into an open air field at the back of the manor. A tub of detergent soaked water and a wash board in it. A string stretched and tied onto two iron poles and a few clips.

"One by one now, young masters."

He scoop up the smallest toy and gently soaked it in the tub.

Alfred, apparently, hadn't break out of his habits.


	2. Chapter 2: Normal

[If the Waynes' were students… & Morning]

 **I**

Cassandra woke up earlier than anybody else. Of course, not as earlier as the debonair butler of Wayne Manor and sometimes the suave billionaire.

Wushu classes started early, Tai Chi practices are even earlier, and with the competition just right around the corner, the high-ups have pushed the timings earlier than it was. Although Bruce is not happy about this, he respects Cassie's determination and discipline. Something his sons pales in comparison.

Alfred made sure that the young miss get the optimum breakfast.

With her Wushu practices in mind, he cooked healthy meals that were light yet filling while maintaining an energising component.

Her dessert comprise of sliced apples shaped like bunnies and a glass of lukewarm water to improve her blood circulation.

He'd also packed for her a cup of yogurt.

The young miss chewed and swallowed the last of her dessert and gulped down water. She picked up her leather jacket and bag pack.

"Not taking the car today?"

Cass nodded and pecked on Alfred's cheek.

"Have a good day miss!" Alfred said jubilantly and waved to her.

 **II**

Tim woke up next.

Fresh apples and lukewarm water laid on the kitchen table. Beside the pristine dishes is a file filled with scripts and screenplays.

The moment he sat down, he picked up the file and read through the lines and details whilst eating his breakfast. His expression solemn in the fine morning.

A performance is coming up.

He has lines to memories and a character to familiarize.

Bruce stumbled down the stairs, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He had returned late in the night and would crush into his bed if Alfred hadn't nagged at him to take a shower and change.

Oh well.

Another day ahead and another night to cruise.

He saw a mass of dark hair.

The person is not tall too… I couldn't be Dick or Jason. It couldn't be Damian too, the slim figure is taller than the twerp.

"Cassan-"

"It's Tim."

"…" "…"

Apples for breakfast. Coffee for the man. Newspaper for the father.

"What's the play about?"

"I'm not giving away any spoilers. I swore to secrecy."

Every Drama Club member of the academy have all sworn to the upmost confidentiality of their projects.

"…" "…"

"If you attend my performance, maybe I could enlighten you in some way? Like a sneak peek."

Tim tapped lightly on the pages of the script.

Bruce sipped on his coffee, like Tim he was still reading the newspaper article.

"When's the play?"

"October 17."

"Good, I'll be there. Alfred, clear my schedule on October 17."

Bruce put down the article.

As promised, Tim flipped the file around. But it was upside down. Less than a mere second, Tim's phone chimed and he shut the file.

Bruce hardly saw anything. Other than a few inverted words. He'd forgot, the boy can be cheeky sometimes.

A smile perched on his lips.

The 3rd son dragged up his bag and put the screenplay in.

"I'm going out!" the young master announced.

Bruce put down the newspaper again. Abruptly and realization hit his eyes.

"Tim, don't forget your rape whistle!"

"Really?!"

 **III**

By the time the young masters, Dick and Jason, rose through Alfred's attempts –

" _Rise and shine, Master Dick/ Jason, it's a beautiful morning today."_

 _With two magnificent and purposeful pull, Alfred stripped them of their warm comfy blankets and separated the curtains._

" _My eyes!"_

 _Poor Dick had pulled an all-nighter. His eyes weren't adjust for the day yet._

 _Meanwhile, Jason stuffed his head under his pillows._ –

The pair was at the kitchen, waiting for their morning appetisers.

Eggs and bacon on wholemeal bread with pear juice for Dick and honey for Jason.

"Jay, breakfast is here!"

'Don't fucking tell me what to do' was at the tip of his tongue but his throbbing head and eyes wouldn't allow it.

Jason caressed his forehead, fell over the couch and heavily trudge to the table.

"You reek of alcohol."

"Shut up."

Jason drowned his honey juice. His tongue tasted the tinge of citrus.

"The battle of the bands is coming up again."

"So?"

"I'm sighing up for it."

Jason unceremoniously spilled the juice from his mouth. A few drops had went to his nostrils and somewhere down the windpipe.

He slammed his chest with a fist.

"You? A circus boy with no musical experience? No fricking way."

"Hey, I'll have you know I was approached by a band who wants my expertise."

"And what would that be? No, no, let me guess, backup dancer."

Dick frowned as he bit his sandwich.

"No. It's singing."

Jason burst out laughing.

"I can totally pull off as the lead singer. Watch out, Jay, my band will win that title. You're going down!"

"Try me."

They stared down at each other. Fingers reaching for their bags.

The grandfather clock rang.

The door flung open and two boys sprint out. They jumped over the car and continued their race.

"Wait! I forgot something!"

"No can do, Jase!"

"Damn it!"

Jason u-turned and went back for his precious bass.

"Not taking the car, master Jason?" Alfred inquired.

The man smirked.

Dick sauntered along the pedestrian. There's no way, his brother can catch up now!

A car horned.

It was a black car with a silver rim.

I know that car anywhere…

Its windows lowered.

"See ya at school, loser!"

Jason stuck his tongue out and put an L shape on his forehead.

"That's cheating!"

"Ain't my problem. Wait, don't stop, he's not supposed to-"

The chauffeur had slowed to a halt.

Dick opened the door and settled in with a big, wide, annoying grin.

 **IV**

Damian tapped and opened the doors to his siblings' room.

The only things that greet him were uncovered blankets and twisted pillows. At least 2 in 5 rooms were made.

He checked his father's too.

Everyone's gone…

The Great Dane wagged its tail and nudged Damian's leg.

Damian settled on a stool.

Alfred glance a look at the boy.

"Your father is at work and the young masters, and miss, are at school."

"School." The boy scoffs.

What's the big deal about educational institutions anyways?

It's just a building filled with children learning a systematic education on the same level. Why even separate subjects into different grades? Just hire a tuition lecturer and he'll be learning more than what the brats do at school!

"Might I suggest, Master Damian, we take Master Titus for a walk?"

Damian looks at Titus, patting its head as he spoke.

"What do you think?"

Titus's tail wagged back and forth excitedly.

"Can we take Batcow with us?"


End file.
